Rumour Has It
by Blondie47
Summary: Constance accuses Imogen of being the reason for the nonsense rumours. Imogen Drill/Constance Hardbroom; femslash.


_**Rumour Has It**_

The witch rhythmically tapped her fingers against the desk, her long nails hitting the hard wood being the loudest sound in the Staff Room. Imogen tried to ignore the sound the first few moments but after some time, and especially because the rhythm was getting faster, it got on her nerves. It was difficult to focus on reading her paper when all she could think of was _tap, tap, tap._

Just as she wanted to say something, the tapping stopped. She glanced at the poison mistress briefly, trying to figure out what caused the sudden silence.

"Unacceptable. I cannot tolerate it any longer!" Constance spoke as if she was expressing her opinion in a middle of a heated conversation (she tended to do that, Imogen noticed).

Constance had her back turned to Imogen, sitting behind her own desk, her spine straightened as always. She seemed outraged and the gym teacher was not sure whether she should react to the outburst or just let it slide as another of her college's strange quirks. To say something was dangerous, for it could lead to a conversation and God knows those did not go well with Constance Hardbroom.

"You _know_ what I am talking about, Miss Drill," she spoke, giving Imogen more than a hint that the words were meant for her. Whatever made Constance so angry would have to wait though because the blonde refused to drop her paper and pay full attention to her just because she suddenly demanded to.

"I am reading, Miss Hardbroom."

"I see that," Constance rolled her eyes, turning her front to the direction where Imogen sat. "But there are more pressing matters here than the latest soccer score!"

Imogen sighed. Whatever was going on it was clear that she was not going to finish the article in peace. "More pressing matters? Like discussing the proper punishment for selling sweets?"

She still remembered the heated conversation Amelia had with Constance earlier that week about the necessity of punishing Griselda and Fenella for sneaking lollies and chocolate to the Academy and then selling them to other girls (Amelia insisted a punishment was not necessary; Constance thought it was vital).

The witch huffed. "Oh please, spare me your opinion, I had enough of that with Miss Cackle. You _know_ what I mean."

"Is this about me misplacing the gym equipment in the broom shed?"

"No."

"Then I really, really have no idea what you mean," she said folding the newspaper. "Care to tell me or should we wait till a sudden wave of telepathy posses me and I can read your mind?"

Constance almost reacted to the sarcastic remark with one of her own but then held back, probably deciding it would be more efficient to continue with her original topic for conversation. She took a deep breath. If Imogen did not know better she would almost think the brunette was nervous. But she did know better - nothing, not dragons or demons - could make the deputy nervous. So why should a simple conversation?

"The _rumours_, Miss Drill. You must have heard them. And I am quite sure you are the reason for their origin."

The rumours, Imogen knew, was the infamous gossip about the two of them that seemed to spread throughout the school like a flu. The rumours addressed the common thinking that they were romantically involved, or as Fenella diplomatically put it the other day when she thought she could not hear - "fuck senseless like bunnies in HB's chambers". Oh yes, _the rumours_ proved to be a great amusement to the pupils of Cackle's Academy the last few weeks (at least it was more creative than the 'gym teacher is a lesbian' one).

"Excuse me? Reason for their origin?" Imogen exclaimed, not understanding how could anyone come to such a conclusion.

"Yes!" Constance stood up, pacing around the Staff Room. "I went over all our encounters at the Academy and I see no reason what so ever why would the girls think I am somehow -" she stopped, considering the next word "-_attracted_ to you. Therefore it must be you who is apparently giving the signals and some of the girls must have noticed."

"Signals?" Imogen felt a bit slow by this point, not being able to react in any other way than repeating Constance's words. She forced herself to formulate her own sentence. "I am doing no such thing. Don't flatter yourself."

The words were not supposed to be hurtful. Imogen uttered them automatically, not thinking that they would weight any more than anything else she could say. But they _did_ hurt, even though Constance was not really sure why. Both women stared at each other a little stunned by the realisation of what they felt when saying and hearing the last comment.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Yes, you did."

Only now Imogen realised that she really, _really_ did not mean it. It hit her like a sudden idea that was lurking in her mind all the time but only now decided to come out. She did not want the witch to think she was not good enough for her, that she was not worth of what the rumours suggested. For some reason she needed to make Constance see how amazing she was. And the very need to do so surprised her greatly.

"Maybe you are right," Imogen said carefully but with determination. Constance frowned, her brown eyes piercing into Imogen with a curious spark. "Maybe I am the reason of their origin."

The blonde picked up her newspaper and erected a paper wall between them. After what she just said she needed to evaporate into the thin air and hiding behind the paper was the next best thing. She heard Constance walk away from her, by the clicking of the heels going back to her own table. Silence and then the familiar sound of fingernails hitting surface:

_Tap, tap, tap._

Imogen was not able to read anything, her mind questioning her reaction. She shouldn't have said anything. She should have just claimed that she was not constantly feeding the rumours by staring at the beautiful woman, by accidentally touching her when possible, by feeling triumphant every time she managed to make her smile. She should have pretended it was a disgusting, horrible rumour and that the girls would sooner or later drop it since there was not a single thread of truth in it.

But no, instead she awkwardly confessed to having feelings for Constance. _Bugger._

_Tap, tap, tap._

"Maybe I am, too," Constance said after awhile in a voice Imogen has never heard before. She sounded scared and vulnerable and yet, at the same time, hopeful.

Imogen smiled behind the newspaper. It was definitely a start.

"Good."


End file.
